


So, Two Mutants Are Waiting For A Bus-

by JustAndrea



Category: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018)
Genre: Gen, Warren is trash but he's so interesting, and as for Bullhop he is my son, awkward meetings lead to self reflection, character being rude and character being kind, exploring character parallels, spoilers for the episode 'Bullhop' (duh)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 07:45:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18069392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAndrea/pseuds/JustAndrea
Summary: They may have had completely different lives, but they still met the same fate. As someone who had managed to just recently find his way to the brighter side of living life as a mutant, Bullhop decides to give a bit of advice to the worm man sitting next to him, whether he wants it or not.





	So, Two Mutants Are Waiting For A Bus-

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic I've been wanting to write for a while. Gotta love those character parallels ^v^ Enjoy!

The night he mutated, Stanley hadn’t managed to grab much from his apartment in his panic. He’d already knocked over several trash cans and mailboxes on the way there, alarming people enough to start screaming for police. The sirens in the distance didn’t exactly lower his anxiety levels either. So, he just grabbed some clothes and undergarments from his dresser, not caring if they would still fit him, some leftovers and cans of food, and his spare change jar. He knew none of it wouldn’t last him very long, but at least it was something.

This time, however, packing his belongings had been much less stressful. ...Mostly because he didn’t have as much. Donatello had given him a homemade smartphone at the beginning of Bullhop Appreciation Day, and using that along with some money the turtles had scrounge up for him, he bought a bus ticket that would take him on a seventy-two hour drive straight to Etobicoke. Afterwards, he grabbed a few things from his tent before digging up a couple more coats and blankets (as well as a new hat and some shoes) from various dumpsters. He had smiled when he was able to find ones that just barely managed to fit his new physique, calling it a lucky break, or perhaps fate itself providing a sign that he was on the right path.

With everything he cared to take with him folded up and placed in a tote bag (save for one thing, which he kept hidden under his coat), Stanley - or Bullhop, as he was enjoying being called now - made his way to the bus station, managing to get there without knocking too much over. Though, he did accidentally dent one car but he left a note so, it was probably fine.

Sighing, Bullhop sat down on the bench, making sure to adjust his hat so it hid his horns. He still had about half an hour to wait, and since he wanted to save his phone battery for the trip, he resigned himself to just sitting and waiting. There were things he wanted to think about anyway, like how he was going pitch his ‘mutant ballet’ idea. What would his first show be? Maybe some sort of mutant version of Swan Lake? That could be a crowd pleaser! Or maybe-

The sudden coo of a bird followed by a loud yelp was enough to bring Bullhop out of his brief brainstorming session. “Oh for the love of-! How many of you am I going to have to barbeque before you feather-brains learn to take! A! HINT!” He turned just in time to blinded by a bright light.

Bullhop cringed, quickly covering his eyes. The pigeon screeched, flapping away as the smell of smoke filled the night air. “And STAY AWAY! You pest!” a man shouted after it. Daring to risk a peek, Bullhop slowly moved his hands away from his face.

Standing just outside of the station’s light, Bullhop could see a small figure - REALLY small! - with what looked like a big head and an even bigger fist that was still glowing slightly. “Whoa… That’s some bird zapper you’ve got there.”

The figure scoffed. “It does more than just zap birds, moron.”

“Oh… So, I guess the bird zapping is a bonus then? Heh…” Even in the dark, Bullhop could tell the small man was scowling back at his awkward smile. “Sorry… You okay?”

“I’ll be _fine_ ,” the man insisted as he started walking - no, _crawling_ towards the bus stop bench, dragging his giant fist behind him, “Once I get back to my apartment and get some shuteye…” Yet another awful day had come and gone for him… First his latest plan for destroying his teenage enemies was deemed a failure by his teammates, all of them refusing to even give it a chance. Then his so-called allies simply talked over him during their brainstorming session (because apparently _their_ plans were sooooo much better!), leaving him rejected and aggravated once again. For the cherry on the horrible day sundae, he had begun craving his favorite Chinatown restaurant late in the afternoon, deciding he deserved a bit of a treat. Unfortunately, the place didn’t deliver, nor was it near any bus stops. He was ignored by taxis, and by the time he traveled through the various obstacles of New York, the restaurant was closed.

‘And now,’ he thought to himself, ‘I have to make small-talk with this bozo. Great. Juuuust great…’ As he got closer, Bullhop couldn’t help but gape a bit at the sight of him. Even after seeing plenty of mutants at Big Mama’s gala, he was still a bit shocked by something so drastic.

The man in front of him was a worm. A **literal** worm! With a purple jacket and poofy, well coiffed blonde hair that seemed sort of familiar, but Bullhop couldn’t quite place it. The worm narrowed his green eyes. “And what are you looking at, kid?”

“N-Nothing!” Bullhop replied, quickly looking away, “Just, uh… So, you uh… You got mutated too, eh?”

“Gee, what was your first clue?” the worm retorted as he crouched down slightly. With one mighty jump, he was able to hop onto bench. He also squished himself in the process, thanks to the giant fist, which Bullhop could now see was in actuality a metal gauntlet.  But the worm recovered before Bullhop could even offer to help get it off him.

“Right… Well, uh- Just, hang in there, buddy.”

“...” The worm turned to give him an incredulous stare. Bullhop winced. Okay, yep, definitely poor choice of words. “‘Hang in there’? HANG IN THERE?! Are you serious?! We’re both mutated freaks and all you can say is ‘hang in there’?!”

“I’m sorry!” Bullhop said quickly, holding his hands up in defense. The worm didn’t raise his gauntlet, but he sure looked like he wanted to use it. “I-I just meant, I know what it’s like to have rough days, a-and what it’s like to suddenly get turned into a mutant! But it gets better, I promise!”

The worm scoffed, looking away. “You have _no_ idea what you’re talking about, kid… And even if you did, I highly doubt our problems are the same. You got mutated into a huge, strong, muscular bull! And what did I get? I got turned into, into-!” He stopped, gritting his teeth. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. None of it will matter! Not once I get my revenge for what _they_ did to me!”

“Look, I- Wait, ‘they’? And, revenge?” Did he really mean-?

“And when I, Warren Stone, DO finally get my revenge, I’ll be praised as a hero by all the other freaks in this city!” Warren shouted, grinning wickedly, “And then it’ll be those teenage mutant ninja turtles that’ll have their names forgotten!”

“Wait wait WAIT!” Bullhop shouted, waving his hands, “You’ve got it all wrong! The Turtles aren’t the bad guys here, they-” He blinked. “...Wait, _you’re_ Warren Stone? I was wondering what happened to you, but I just thought you retired or-”

“SEE?!” Warren screamed suddenly, making the bull flinch once more (and this time, nearly taking the whole back of the bench down with him). “This is what I mean?! I’ve been FORGOTTEN! Disgraced! Turned into a WORM that no one can even recognize! AND IT’S ALL THOSE STINKIN’ TURTLES’ FAULT!!!”

The worm’s voiced echoed through the nearly empty bus station. A worker behind the ticket counter glanced up from her magazine and a homeless gentleman a few benches back stirred a bit, but other than that, it would seem his only audience was the shocked bull sitting beside him.

“...You’re wrong,” Bullhop began, “And, I know that’s not what you want to hear right now but, I’m also not gonna just sit here and let you insult my friends.”

Warren raised an eyebrow. “Friends?! But they’re the ones who-!”

“It wasn’t their fault!” Bullhop insisted, “The things that mutated us are the mosquitos! And one night, a whole bunch of them showed up to my hotel! Er, well, not really my hotel but… But it felt like mine in a way, you know.” Smiling softly, Bullhop reached into his coat and took out his Bellhop of the Month plaque. It was one of two things, the other being his tattered uniform, that he had decided to keep from his old life. Just because he was starting fresh didn’t mean he had to leave everything behind.

Warren stretched up a bit to get a good look at the plaque. “...That’s a really bad picture,” he stated.

“I wasn’t ready for the flash. Anyway, the Turtles showed up and tried to catch all the mosquitoes before they could bite anyone, and- well…”

“Aaaand they screwed up,” Warren finished for him, his expression now flat, “Because they’re idiots.”

Bullhop scowled. “Hey, they may not be the brightest guys, or even the most observant, but they’re not idiots. And they really did try to do their job, it just wasn’t enough. But, because of their mistake, my life was changed forever. I went from being the best bellhop in town to being a big, clumsy bull that couldn’t even take two steps without tripping all over himself or wrecking something.”

But despite this unfortunate fact, he still smiled as he thought about the past couple weeks. “But then, weeks later, the Turtles found me again, and they… They wanted to help me. To make up for their mistake, and to help me get back up on my feet. And they were so nice, without wanting anything in return! They let me stay with them, gave me food, introduced me this really cool dance game which, somehow, gave me both great dance skills AND confidence! And I was someone who had NEVER danced before! But now, well, I don’t want to brag but-” Seeing the glare Warren was giving him, Bullhop decided to just get to his point.

“Yeah, they sorta messed up my life but, but they also cared enough to help me find a new one! And now I’m going back home to Canada! I’m going to dance and find my own stage and, heh, and just not care if I end up stumbling all over it! Because I’m happy now, even as a bull, and I’m sure if you just-” Warren growled, suddenly turning away again. “...A-And I’m sure if you just asked them, they’d help you find a new life too? And, um, help you become happy with… being a mutant?” Bullhop winced again. Not exactly the most inspiring way to end a speech, and he didn’t need to see the worm’s face to know it.

“Wow,” Warren said quietly after a moment, scoffing, “You really don’t know anything, do you, kid? I don’t _want_ another life, I want my life! My OLD life! You were some nobody working in a hotel, I was a somebody! The face of a city! The guy who brought people the news! The handsomest newscaster on local tv! You’ve never won an award like that! You’ve never been on tv or been famous enough to be recognized on the street! You DEFINITELY don’t know what it’s like to suddenly only be a few inches tall! You-! You-!” His tiny body was practically shaking with rage. “You’re not even from this country so what do you know?!”

“WHOA! Okay,” Bullhop said, glaring fully at the worm now, “Are you REALLY going to go there?”

“Ugh, fine, that last bit was rude, even for a New Yorker,” Warren grumbled. He rubbed his eyes, forcing his anger down somewhat. “But the rest of my points still stand. We might have both lost everything in our lives, but I had a lot harder to fall. So you don’t get to tell me that it’s all going to be okay, not when you and I have clearly had different experiences when it comes to this whole mutant thing.” His glare deepened. “And as for your friends… Hmph, those turtles can try to make up for their ‘mistakes’ all they want, but they’re still a menace. And I’m still going to be the one to take them out once and for all.”

“...Have you ever considered podcasts?”

Warren blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Podcasts,” Bullhop repeated, “I mean, I know it’s hard for you to get a job on tv now but, with a podcast, no one would know you were a worm, if that’s what you wanted. And if you didn’t mind people knowing, you could make that part of your gimmick. Help you stand out, you know?”

Warren just gave him another flat stare. “I used to be on tv. Podcasts are beneath me.”

“I dunno,” Bullhop shrugged, “A lot of podcasters get pretty famous.” A cold silence fell between them. One of the old lights above flickered as an oozesquito bumped into it. Bullhop watched it, not too worried. You couldn’t get mutated twice, right? The thing looked like it was at the end of its life anyway, just bumping into a bright, harsh light over and over.

Warren watched it too. Thinking about it, he did recall the feeling of something pinching that fateful day… But those turtles had still been around too. They had to be related to the oozesquitos somehow, they just had to! Maybe the purple one created them or, or maybe they released them onto the city as a prank and only started trying to wrangle them up when they got bored with the results. Whatever the reason, it had to be something. It just had to be!

Still, he wondered as he watched the bug above, out of all the millions of people in the city, why did it have to bite him? Why did it have to change _him?_

“I get why you hate them,” Bullhop started again, “I hated them too… But they really are good guys trying their best. And I mean, they are younger than both of us so… I feel like we could cut them a bit of slack. Teenagers don’t really deserve to get destroyed for dumb teen mistakes, even ones as big as this.” He paused for a moment as a thought crossed his mind. “So what did they say?”

“What?” Warren asked, looking back up at him.

“When you told them that they were responsible to what happened to you. What did they say?”

Warren huffed. “Those punks don’t listen when I threaten them and explain my plans. I’m lucky if I can even get them to remember my name!”

Bullhop blinked slowly. “...So they don’t know.”

“...If they don’t listen to threats and screaming,” Warren countered, glaring once again - though by this point, he hardly had any energy left to make it effective, “What makes you think they’ll listen if I tell them that they’re the reason I’m like this and that they should ‘be good guys’ and help me find my new purpose or whatever?”

The bull shrugged. “You never know if you don’t try, and maybe if they saw you less as an enemy-”

“ _Greatest_ enemy.”

“-Greatest enemy and more as just a fellow mutant that need help, they wouldn’t ignore you.”

“I highly doubt that,” he sneered. It was just as Warren thought, this guy had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. And even if he was right, Warren was certainly not about to go crawling to his enemies and beg for their help.

His life was sad enough as is.

Speaking of which- His empty stomach growled as he placed a hand on it. Warren took a moment to think. He was pretty sure he still had some leftovers in his fridge, though he couldn’t remember how old they were. Maybe if he could sneak into his landlord’s office and grab some of his bread-

“Here.” “Huh?” Suddenly, a package of turkey jerky was placed in front of him. “I know it’s not the greatest but uh, I figured I probably shouldn’t eat beef jerky anymore,” he heard Bullhop explain. He had been saving it for the bus ride, hoping to make it stretch till their first rest stop but- “You can have some if you want. And uh, I’ve got some cheese-flavored potato chips too.”

Warren was silent for a moment. “You can keep the jerky,” he finally replied, “But I’ll take some of the chips.” Bullhop handed him the entire bag.

It wasn’t long before the bus Bullhop had been waiting for came rolling towards them. “By the way,” he said, a pleasant smile back on his face, “The name’s Stanley, but my friends call me Bullhop. If you’re ever heading up north for whatever reason and need a place to stay, call me up, eh?”

“...Seriously? Bullhop?” Warren shook his head. “And you used to be a bellhop. Just… Wow.”

“Hey, it works.” And if it really was going to be his new name for the rest of his life… Well, Stanley was just fine with that.

The air became a bit smokey once again as the old bus pulled up. Warren watched as Bullhop boarded, tripping on the steps and nearly taking the whole door off. It almost made him chuckle.

“Good luck, kid,” he mumbled, “You’re going to need it…”

Once it was clear no one else was going to board, the bus drove away, leaving Warren all alone once more. His eyes glanced back up at the light, but found no oozesquito. Instead it was lying flat on its back, dead on the ground with the bright green ooze within it now dark.

Warren narrowed his eyes as his tiny hands crumbled up the chip bag. It didn’t matter if he had lost everything… He would make sure to repay those annoying turtles in full. Ruin _their_ lives before destroying them slowly and painfully. Maybe it wouldn’t turn him back into a handsome human newscaster and give him back his fans, but it would still be satisfying. It would still be a victory of sorts, and that would be enough.

The Bullhops of the city could let themselves become content with their new freakish lives, but **_Warren Stone_ ** was going to fight! He clenched his mystically-enhanced fist tightly, smirking at the burning power he felt within it. He focused on its power and warmth, which allowed him to also ignore the chilly evening wind that was starting to come in..

Yes… Bullhop may have found his own path with dance games and trips back home, but this. THIS was Warren’s path, he was sure of it. It was his new purpose in life, and he was going to reach his victory and destroy his reptilian foes, one way or another…

**THE END**


End file.
